The Soldier and The Spy
by desikostos
Summary: Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter try to balance their personal lives with being the all time American Soldier and one of the most dangerous international spies. This is the sequel of "The dangerous game".
1. Chapter 1

Steve was enjoying his beer and the view more and more with every passing second. Manhattan was slowly stepping into the warm May evening. Behind him, the sun was setting down; another exhausting day as an Avenger had passed.

He didn't quite like Tony's place, but it served as an Avengers operations gathering for the past few mounts. And let's not forget about the view; a 360 degrees chance to look down at all of New York. Steve needed only one more thing to call this day complete, but that thing had been several thousand miles away from him for the past four days. He only managed to take another sip from the bottle and smile to the memory of her. Like or not Steve had developed very strong feelings for Sharon and every time they were apart made him realize that the life he thought he could never have wasn't completely impossible. After all, they'd been dating for little over five months, so to speak, and everything was going great this far.

The sun finally hid itself behind the last tall building and the city lights started to come up one after another. Nothing beat New York's skyline at night. The weather was warmer than usual, but the gentle breeze made it at least tolerable.

The sliding door to the terrace opened and Tony quickly stepped out, locking behind him, looking all nervous.

"Captain!"

Steve greeted him with a subtle bottle lift. "Stark!" But it didn't escape his attention how he acted. "What's up?"

"Hmm, hiding!"

"From?"

"Pepper."

"Why?"

"Curtains!"

Steve didn't quite understand some of the today's way of speaking, but he knew when Tony was truly afraid of something. He clutched his eyebrows and asked. "Curtains?"

"Or carpets or tiles… I don't know!"

Steve let a little chuckle. ""You've done something wrong, ha?"

"Tell me about it; she has been talking about remodeling the bedroom since forever and she picked the worst time to come and _consult_ with me about it."

"Right when you weren't listening…"

Tony nodded. "Right when I wasn't listening."

"So, you're hiding."

Tony took a sip from his beer and stared at the flashing lights ahead. "So, I am hiding. Tell me something old man, where is your equally good if not better looking half?"

He smiled. "Definitely better looking and she is in Germany, working."

Tony lifted the bottle once again and let the cold beer to cool him off; _damn it was hot_. "Ah, The Soldier and The Spy..."

Steve gave him quizzical look, but Tony knew how to safely push him around. He meant well. "It's what we call you, it's a compliment."

Steve laughed. "Just don't let Carter hear you, she hates labeling."

"You two doing alright?"

"I sure hope so; so far so good."

"Says the man that once told me he wasn't built for family life."

"Things chance, I guess. And what about you and Pepper?"

"We'll be fine, as long she never finds me in the next hour or two or 48, fingers crossed."

Steve looked over Tony's shoulder and noticed Pepper calmly and yet somehow fiercely making her way through the crowd. A half mouth grin blossomed on his face. "Just to warn you, Pepper is coming this way and she doesn't look happy… at all. You have two options here, pal, you either face her or…"

"Do as any man in a long-term relationship facing the wrath of the woman he loves and hide till it wears off… and do some online shopping for a very early Christmas present." Tony looked back to see where Pepper was and when he saw her approaching Steve didn't need a teller to see in the future.

Tony grabbed his beer and headed the opposite direction of Pepper. "If I don't make it out alive it was nice knowing you, Cap."

Steve saluted him once more with the bottle and watched him vastly walk away from danger. Steve shook his head and stared at the slowly emerging darkness. He missed her; he wanted to be with her; he needed her. He took the phone of his pocket and dialed her number. After few beep, Sharon's voice mail came through.

" _This is Sharon, leave a message._ "

"Just checking on you; hope you're doing well and you haven't killed your jerk of a boss yet… that's all… He took few seconds pause, contemplating what to say next. "And Carter, stay sharp!" He hung up. _Stay sharp! What was that about,_ it definitely wasn't the thing he meant, but he wasn't ready to say what he was really trying to say, not yet. His romantic live was quite complicated and he needed more time to come to terms with everything that had been going on the past six months.

After another long gaze at the skyline Steve drank the last of the beer and stepped inside, greeted by the cheerful voices of his very enthusiastic team-mates. The night continued.

Few hours later, after the room emptied and noise saddled, Steve found himself standing on the terrace once more. He was tired, sore and homesick. Tony had arranged Steve to fly back home to Washington in the morning, so he had nothing else to do for the night. Resting against the railing he watched his friends departing. He didn't even realize when Hill had stepped out with him.

Maria had lost the joyful look on her face and it made it clear to him that the news she carried weren't good.

"Captain, there has been a situation."

"Aren't we done saving the world for today, Hill?"

Maria adjusted her position, visibly troubled. "This time it's personal."

"Sometimes it feels like everything is personal, what's up?"

"A friend of mine called and told me that The CIA had lost contact with one of their agents in Colombia."

"Sorry to hear that, but I think that you are talking with the wrong party about that. The only relations I have with the Agency are through Sharon and even she knows not to mention them to me. You should call Carter and deal with her… "

Maria didn't let him finish. "It's Sharon, Steve."

Steve became uneasy. "What's Sharon?"

"She is the one missing. Her handler lost contact with her more than 18 hours ago. She was on recon mission in Cartagena and now she is…"

"Missing?" Steve's face became dark and he was visibly angered. "She is not even in active duty. She cannot be missing; it's some kind of mistake."

"When was the last time you spoke with her?"

Steve mind rolled every moment of their last conversation they had more than a day ago. She sounded fine and now she was missing. It didn't make any sense. "She told me they were headed to Germany; it can't be her, ok! Desk job, that's what she has been doing since January… "

Maria took a step closer. "Steve, this is real, it's not a mistake or some sort of misunderstanding. Sharon left The States four days ago for Bogotá, not Berlin. My friend tells me that she has been tasked with this mission several weeks ago… "

Steve couldn't even hear Hill speaking, all he saw before his eyes was her face, pale and lifeless… The memory of that night haunted him still.

And when he finally spoke his voice was scary low. "What happened?"

"No one knows; she was supposed to make contact to report yesterday morning, but she missed the deadline."

"And that was 18 hours ago? What are they doing to find her?"

Maria paused, not sure how to continue. "They aren't! And they won't! From what I got from my friend the mission wasn't exactly sanctioned by the CIA, so whoever went there, it's on his own and if something goes south…"

"Will be left behind?"

"Pretty much."

Steve never felt so weak in his life. It was happening all over again. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Maria with such determination.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Do you need to ask?"

"Not really."

"Good, cause we're wasting time."

…


	2. Chapter 2

**_5 days earlier_**

Sharon opened just one eye, hoping it won't be her phone ringing in four in the morning on a Saturday. She sighed with relieve; _it wasn't_. It only left her with one other option. Sharon looked over to the man hugging her with his strong arms. She gently tapped him on his cheek to wake him up and said "Steve, your phone's buzzing…"

In a very sleepy voice he asked. "Sure is not yours?"

"Not this time, thank god." Sharon turned to face him; never bothering to open her eyes and said. "Now, if you be so kind to answer it so I could go back to sleep…"

Steve sighed; lifted himself up enough to grab his phone from her nightstand and stared in the caller's ID couple more seconds.

"Which one is this time? Natasha, Sam or Hill?"

"Stark."

"Great… now get out my bedroom and answer the damn thing already."

Steve tried to sound offended. "It though it was our bedroom?"

"It sure won't be if you continue to get on my nerves… you and Stark both. Answer him or he won't stop… Now!" Sharon buried her head in his pillow. She always did that when he wasn't in bed with her. Something about his scent made her feel safe and comfortable.

Before getting up from the bed, Steve turned around; kissed her on the forehead and said with a playful tone "Yes, ma'am!"

The conversation wasn't long, but it robbed Sharon from her sleep.

Steve didn't like what he was hearing, but there was nothing to be done. Captain America was summoned once more. He sighed. His job; their job was the very prove that the world was far from perfect and nowhere near of safe.

Sharon sat in the bed and waited for him to finish with Stark. She knew what was coming; he was about to leave, _again_. It would have been hypocritical from her side to want to stop him, knowing that she had been lying to him for the past month, but still, she didn't want him to leave.

He returned to the bedroom, sensing, knowing that she is awake and waiting.

"So?"

Steve dropped the phone on the bed and sat beside her. "I'll have to leave for New York…" He looked at the clock on his nightstand. "Natasha will be here in an hour to pick me up."

"How bad?"

"Stark didn't quite explain it to me, but it's probably nothing; maybe he is trying to be cautious. That's all."

Sharon gave him half of a smile, a tired one. "Knowing us…"

He pushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "Yeah…yeah!" He kissed her softly on the lips and looked her right in the eyes. "Now, go back to sleep, no need to waste your first free weekend in weeks. I need to get ready, but I'll call you when we land in New York, ok?"

Sharon wrapped her arms around his neck and locked her eyes with his. "You better do so and not get yourself killed, ok, soldier? Or I'll feel obligated to make you pay for it! After all, I don't want anything to happen to my second favorite avenger…"

Steve pulled her closer to him, lifted her up and then threw her back on the bed, very delicately of course. Placing his hand on both sides of her head, he was right above her; his face tad darker, eyes filled with passion and something primordial. "Second in favor, ha? And who may I ask is your favorite avenger?"

Sharon kept her composure, provoking him. "Thor of course… He is so..." She sighed. "Dreamy!"

The look on his face said it all. _Captain America was jealous,_ she thought; more importantly, she kinda liked it. For the most of her life Sharon was never interested in boys or man the way her friends had been, but with this man it was different. She needed to experience every single thing she always sensed she might have missed in previous relationships. And not because she had changed to full blown romantic, but because her "thing" with Steve made her realize that being all girly sometimes it's a good thing. Making her man jealous and nervous about other men was not that bad.

Steve frowned and was about to get up. "Well, Carter, you got lucky this time. When I get to New York I'll make sure to send _Thor_ your sincere regards… " But Sharon wasn't going to let him walk away from her. She grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him down and started to examine his eyes, expression, and his demeanor and when she was done she said. "You're very sexy when you're angry, you know that Rogers."

The way he smiled, that half mouth grin of his that drove her insane blossomed on his face. "And you, Carter, are in big trouble."

Sharon buried her hands in his hair. "Oh, shut up and kiss me!"

And Steve happily obliged.

An hour later he left for New York. It was the last time he saw her; the last time he kissed and made love to her. Steve watched as the plane lifted off to spend the next five hours in the air, bringing him close to Colombia, to her. He only hoped that everything he remembered of that night wouldn't be the very last of their life together. It was special and it was real and he wasn't ready to say goodbye to her or to it.


	3. Chapter 3

**_13 days later_**

The woman from across the street had no clue she had been watched; observed for days. She was laughing, obviously entertained by the company. Everything about her was at ease; the way she peacefully sat surrounded by one of the biggest and baddest people in the world; the way she smiled at the worst of them all; the way she gently stroke his cheek. Oh, she had no clue of the man hiding in the shadows. And how could she… she had been too happy and too smitten by her companion to be aware of the danger the man in the shadows posed…

He watched her… followed her for days now. He knew everything about her. And with every revelation his anger grew more violent. He needed to punish her, to make his pain known, but she was always surrounded by people… by her very, _very_ bad friends…

…

The hallway was dark, the air thick and damp. The electricity was out again; third time this week. And it provided him with the perfect opportunity to get to her. She would never see him coming. So, he waited for her…

…

She was tired after the long working day. Her feet hurt from the constant need to wear high hills, even at the beach, _but hey, if it helped her cause the hell with personal comfort, right? Hell no,_ but soon all the effort she'd put into the job, into _this_ job would've made a lot more sense. She just prayed it would be sooner rather later.

The lights were out, again, but she had gotten used to it. The weather was hotter than expected and the old electrical grid of the city gave up every now and then. Not that she had anything against some peace and quiet, but no electricity meant to fan, and no fan meant no getting away from the unbearable heat… _Well, only a cold shower will do_.

Five flight of stairs later she was finally home. She didn't wait to get in, she took her shoes off one by one, then the floppy straw hat, that was her only salvation from the burning Colombian sun, unlocked the door and stepped into the much cooler two bedroom apartment. God, she was tired. She dropped the shoes down and tossed the hat on the little table. Raking a hand through her hair she looked around her unusually dark apartment and felt funny. There was something very wrong… One step forward and then another and then…

One strong hand covered her mouth and pulled her back, until her back slammed against the rock solid body of a man; extremely big man. Instantly she regretted taking her shoes off, the 4 inches hills would have been great weapon in case you get attacked in your home by a stranger. _Oh, well, then she'll have to come up with something else._

 _…_

 _Wasn't she a fighter?_ She tried every known and unknown punch on him, but he anticipated her every move. But he was getting tired of playing games.

She found herself with her wrists twisted behind her back, pinned to bed, face first of course. After she had exhausted every move on him, gloriously failing where she was supposed to be the best, he had overpowered her and dragged her to the master bedroom.

She literally hated herself so much right now. Hated her for not being able to see his attack coming; for not fighting him off, for leaving the damn curtains down, just because…; for not screaming, because it might have affected her cover, for wearing this damn dress, if you could call it that in the first place. The lace did nothing to cover her body, and the so called bathing suit she chose this morning was her worst idea so far.

…

He couldn't deny that she was a strong woman, resourceful and brave, but he was bigger, stronger, and tougher than her; she stood no chance against him and it made him smile.

She didn't know what else to do. Trapped between the bed and his huge body she went still, contemplating her next move, but something felt strange with him. Inflicting pain, or at least the idea of doing so, comes easily with such people, but he never tried to hurt her. Not when she tried to kill him through broking his nose and sending the little bone fragments up his brain, or when she tried to snap his neck with a tight grip… not once, as if he was protecting her.

But no wonder…

"Don't even think about it, a _gent Carter_!" his tone was mocking.

And she knew she was going to kill him.

…

Steve sat at end of the bed with his back turned toward her. From the moment she saw the storm of emotions in his eyes, Sharon knew the depth of his feelings for her; the anger, the frustration, the betrayal, the relief…

"You look good for someone who's missing and presumed dead!" he said flatly.

"Steve… I…"

He stood up, never looking back at her. But she did. From the far corner of the bed she looked at him and she hated what she was seeing.

"You what, Carter?" he turned to face her.

Sharon also stood, just to meet his gaze. "I am sorry…"

"No, Sharon, you're not." Steve gave her one last look and walked out.

Sharon jumped when he slammed the front door.

"Damn it!" She collapsed on the bed; head falling to her chest. She'd messed up, big time.

…

Somewhere in downtown Manhattan Maria Hill's phone started buzzing. It took her five rings to finally answer.

"I gather he already found you?"

"Damn it, Hill…I shouldn't have told you anything." Sharon tried to get even with someone and this someone was her former boss and very soon former friend. "What the hell is Steve doing here?"

"Knocking some sense into you, I hope." She said flatly.

"That's not much of an answer, Maria." Sharon rubbed her sore, red eyes and looked over the clock. It was little after four in the morning which made it almost three hours since Steve left her apartment. "I told you I needed to do this alone…"

"And I told you that if things got out of hand I was ratting you out."

"Gee, Maria thanks for the vote of confidence. I could have used some heads up." Sharon dropped on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Like the heads up I had, hearing you went dark. For the love of god, Carter, what were you thinking? That the news won't get to Washington? After everything that went down with us last year the USA government cannot go through another international incident."

"And I won't let that happened, I just needed some time, more time to handle things. Now with Steve here, if he's still here after storming out like he did, I'm not sure I will be able to do so, so once _thanks Maria!_ "

"Hey, I only did what's best for you." Maria's voice baffled her. Always even and calm, filled with reason and deep affection. Maybe she wasn't a hugger or a person who would put their feeling out on display, but Sharon knew that after all those years of friendship she could count on Maria to bring her down from her high horse. The way she was doing right now.

"The hell you did!"

Sharon let a deep breath and it caught her friend's attention. "Was it that bad?"

"I am not sure what it was. He just stood there and looked at me with such…god… resentment! It's like I couldn't recognize him and it scares me. Maybe I deserve it, I don't know!"

"You do deserve it!"

Sharon let an awkward laugh. "It's nice to know that your BFF has your back."

"I'm not your BFF to held things back, am I? Besides, you know I hate when you call us that, as if we are some stupid teenagers high on raging hormones. Now, quit whining, fix your mess and come home."

"Yes, boss!"

"Ha-ha, very funny, I may not be your boss anymore, but I can still kick your ass."

"Normal people go out for tequila shots after a hard day."

"But we are not normal are we?"

"Nope! Not by a long shot."

"You better go and find the man in question here and make peace with him and I… gotta go to work. Do you even where to start looking?"

Sharon knew exactly where he was. She got up, walked to the main window and looked down at the only place where he could be at this hour. "Maybe."

"Great, then why are you still talking with me?"

"Sometimes you forget you're not the boss of me…"

"Yeah, yeah…"

"Hey, Hill!"

"What?"

"Say hello to Sam from me!"

What Sharon said clearly caught off guard, but leave to Maria Hill to play it all cool and professional. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

If Maria could see the stupid grin on her face she would only speed up the sparing match. "Yeah, yeah…"

She hung up on Hill and suddenly felt utterly worn out. Looking across the street at the bar she thought of the possibility of letting Steve calm down on his own terms and simply wait for him to come back. But one other thought invaded her mind. What if he just left, like that, leaving her alone and boyfriend-less? What if he just decided that what she did was unforgivable and left for good? She couldn't risk losing him, not now and not ever. She lov… she cared for him that much.

 _"_ _Come on Carter, how worse can it be?"_

In her mind the worst part was over, leaving only room for talking and mending and sweet make-up sex, fingers crossed. But her mind couldn't even fathom the depth of Steve's anger and sense of betrayal. She only saw things from her perspective, not his. In her mind the mission was all that counted, any unwanted emotions were potentially deadly; reason was the only thing allowed on the job; not love or friendship, not even hate, just reason. So he had to see the reason behind her actions, he had to understand. _Had to!_

On the way out she tossed the phone the bed and headed for the front door. Seconds later she was taking down the stairs. She hesitated at the first step, but there was no more room for lies or secrets. It was now or never!

 _"_ _Well, Sharon, here goes nothing!"_


	4. Chapter 4

Ten minutes later Sharon stormed out the small bar and headed for her apartment. She was wrong when she thought she could have a civil conversation with Steve about everything. Dead wrong. All she got is one syllable answers and hostility and she was having none of it tonight.

"Didn't take you for a coward, Carter?" Steve shouted after her.

Sharon didn't stop nor slow down. She just kept going. "And I didn't take you for such an asshole, Rogers!"

…

"Steve, I'm tired, hungry, it's too hot in here and I seriously don't want to do this right now, ok?" Sharon looked over at Steve who currently occupied the most of the door frame. "It's not like we're getting anywhere either."

"And whose fault is that?" He frowned.

"Oh, dear God!" Sharon threw her hands in the air. "What more do you want from me, I already told you I was sorry."

Steve jerked, casting her a cold look. "And I told you I didn't believe you."

Sharon couldn't believe she was actually having this conversation. Not after everything they've been through, not after the fact that they both agreed to respect what the other was doing for a living. Ok, maybe she had approached the whole returning to active duty thing wrong, but she expected from him at least to understand, to support her. He knew very well that she'd been dying at work, day after day, just sitting around doing nothing.

"You know what?" She approached him. "You're right, I am not sorry and I shouldn't be apologizing for doing my job. I shouldn't be explaining or justifying the things I do for a living, ok?"

Steve shook his head with disbelieve. "You still don't get it."

"And whose fault is that?" She pushed him backwards and slammed the door at his face.

…

Steve's phone buzzed and danced right next to his head, pulling him from the much needed rest. He didn't even bother to look at the number, answering with the simple _hello_.

"You two done fighting yet?"

"That would require us talking first." Steve sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes.

Sam's laughter filled the receiver. "What did you do?"

"Why are you assuming it's something that I've done?"

"I know you man, you tend to be difficult at times, especially when it comes to Carter and her work."

"I'm not…" Sharon swung the door open interrupting his little moment of self evaluation, rocking the mile long legs, barefoot under one of his old t-shirts and for a moment he completely forgot what he was talking about. Clearing his throat Steve managed to continue, "Difficult!" The taunting smirk on Sharon's face got to him. " _Yeah, right, you're not_!"

" _I'm n_ …" Steve looked at her as she passed him, but didn't finish. "What do you want, Sam?" He snapped at the phone mostly ticked by Sharon's comment.

"Hey, don't bite my head off, I mean well I promise. Just checking to see how it's going, that's all."

Steve got up and put his pants on, watching Sharon as she made coffee. "How about I tell you when I figure out for myself first, ok?"

"That bad, ha? No wonder that you're not in the mood for social calls."

"Have I ever been in the mood for social calls?"

Sam laughed. "Not that I could recall of."

…

Steve used the time while Sharon was making breakfast to take a shower and shave. God knows, he needed it. The cold shower not only cooled his body, but also his growing annoyance with the whole situation. He knew Sharon all too well, for her quitting wasn't an option. Steve was fully aware the she'd continue with the charade for as long as possible.

When he was finally done grooming his hair and step out the bathroom, he found her waiting for him.

With nothing but a towel around his waist, Steve's naked Greek-god-like body was an overwhelming scene and Sharon found herself holding her breath. It wasn't like she wasn't aware of how unnaturally good he looked, but the fact that she hadn't seen him in weeks, most importantly hadn't done things to him in weeks made her lose track of what she had to say.

"First my couch, then my shower… now what?" Her eyes followed him as he went to other room to get a new pair of clothing from his bag. He dug out some old pair of jeans and plain white t-shirt and came back to the bedroom.

"Now," he looked at her coffee mug. "Your coffee." And took it from her hands. The bitter taste made him wince. "No sugar?"

"Not today. I'm not feeling the sweet side of the world yet." She forced out, taking her mug back. "You know, I don't recall _allowing_ you to crash on my couch?"

Steve frowned as he jumped in the jeans. " _Allowing me_?"

"You're right, scratch that, I don't remember inviting you either, let alone allowing you stay here. So, why not take your things and go back to your place. No, scratch that too, get your things and go back to DC. Plain and simple."

"And leave you alone without even an explanation… " Steve put the shirt on. "I don't think so, Sharon." He smiled when she growled at him. "Tough luck, Carter, it looks like you're stuck with me."


	5. Chapter 5

Sitting for hours in front of a computer wasn't how Sharon pictured the day going, but she couldn't do much either with Steve constantly on her tail. She had to figure a way out if this situation without revealing too much and so far her super spy mind had come up with absolutely nothing. _Nothing! Can you believe that?_ Huffing and puffing didn't do the trick and with an irritated sigh she pushed back in the chair and stared at the white celling. Like the answer would present itself on the sterile surface.

It didn't.

Steve knocked on the door few times but got nothing. She was either unable to hear him or to determent to ignore him till he eventually disappeared. He was willing to bet on the latter. He knocked another few times and decided that this whole scenario was running old and it was time to really put the cards on the table, so against his better judgment he pushed the knob and opened the door. He found her sitting in the chair in front of the desk, with eyes closed and hands resting on her forehead; a sign she was both tired and stuck in a bad place. With hair spilling over her shoulders, wearing the same damn tee from few hours ago she was the most stunning view he had ever seen. But all warm and fuzzy feelings aside, he had some serious talking to do with her.

He closed the door and approached her. As he moved closer he managed to sneak a peek of what was flashing on her computer. It was a photo of a man. No, correct that, it was a photo of a tall, dark handsome man that could clearly steal any woman's attention. But something about him screamed dangerous and it rubbed him the wrong way. Unfortunately before he could get a better view of the guy Sharon shut the laptop closed and stared at him.

"Fancy looking guy. Friend of yours?" He sat on the edge of the desk and looked down at her. She looked beyond tired, with dark circles under her eyes, on the verge of breaking. No matter how strong she tried to look he knew better.

"He," Sharon pushed the computer away and stood up, leveling with him. "Is not any of your business."

But she still got it, even after a sleepless night, she wasn't letting her guard down.

"You don't look so good." The comment won a frown and a growl from her.

"Fighting with your boyfriend all night usually does that to people." She went over the closet and started looking for new pair of clothes. She needed a shower and a proper meal. An apple and a cup a coffee after almost 40 hours without sleep and food weren't getting her anywhere. And she needed to be in her best shape.

"We don't need to fight, you know. Just tell me what's going on with you and we'll be…" He didn't dare to finish after the look she gave him over her shoulder. He raised hands in defeat. "Fine, I'm dropping it..."

"Good!" She nodded.

"For now." _Don't feel so smug, Carter!_ "At least let me make you something to eat. And apple and a cup of coffee isn't the best thing to get you through the day."

God, she hated how well he knew her.

"Fine…but shower first."

…

Steve use the time while she was in the shower to order pizza and wonder around. Not much to be said about the living room or the spear bedroom, but her bedroom was in complete disarray with papers and photos lying on every possible surface. Most of them were beyond classified and definitely to kill or at least to go to prison for, but one caught his attention. It was the photo of the man from before attached to a thick yellow folder. _Very thick folder to begin with_. He was about to go for it, but Sharon caught him.

"I could arrest you for being in the same room with that." She tapped him on the shoulder and went for the dresser.

"You shouldn't leave such sensitive documents unattended." His gaze followed her as she moved pass her wearing nothing but a towel it was hard for him to concentrate.

She picked a pair of black laced bikini and a matching bra, which Steve was positive he had never seen before, but couldn't afford to get distracted now at this particular piece of information that while he thought something bad had happened to her, she clearly had been doing some shopping from the new Victoria's Secret spring catalogue.

"I haven't and need I to remind you that you're in _my_ apartment, looking over _my_ stuff, stuff you don't have clearance to even know exist?" She gave him a look and processed to get dress.

"Yes, your apartment, your stuff…" _But while we're still on the subject._ "Are those new?"

She latched the bra on and looked at his now darkened features. "What?"

He motioned at the bra and the bikini with her following his hand. "What difference does it make if they're new?"

"From where I'm standing it makes a whole lot of difference."

"I don't follow." She dismissed his rising anger and started looking for something to cover herself. A heavy fur coat was preferable.

He quickly got to her. "Maybe because while I was looking for you, thinking that you're most probably lying somewhere dead, you've been living your life."

 _Can't dismiss that._ "I wasn't living my life, I was, _I am_ working on a case. This…" She waved her hand around "is called creating a cover, a new identity. You've been with the intelligence community long enough to know how it's done. So drop the act." Contrary to how she was feeling and in a desperate need of cover she chose the most revealing beach dress yet. The see-through material did nothing to protect her from his scrutinizing gaze, but she couldn't let him win, right?

"Some cover, Carter." He looked at her one more time and walked away." And he didn't mean only the way she was dressed. "After all, the lease of this apartment has your name on it. Not some deep cover alias, but yours. For someone who's been working with the intelligence community for this long you should know how covers work." He took a deep breath. "News flash, Carter, this is not covers work, with everyone knowing your real name. So who's acting now?"

He looked almost victoriously. With his hands crossed over his chest he knew he had won the battle. And it finally hit her, she was losing control.

"So… if it gets the job done…" She pulled her hair in a loose pony tail and tried to walk past him. Steve grabbed her arm just over her elbow and stopped her from leaving. " _If it gets the job done?"_ He was probably hallucinating _._ "I don't know what scares me the most, the fact that you can say something like that or that you might actually believe it."

She didn't look confused or regretful. She looked determent. It was too much. "Jesus, Carter, it's your life we're talking about."

She pulled away and he let her. "Yes my life, my job, my mission. You don't have a saying in this, Steve."

"Even if it gets you killed?" He was glad he was directing the question at her back. He couldn't face the answer, especially when he knew what it was.

She stopped dead at her tracks. She had been asking herself the damn question ever since her boss brought it up three mounts ago. Was she willing to put her life on the line for this? For this mission? Last year she wouldn't even hesitate. The mission was all that mattered… But after what happened in Paris she wasn't so sure anymore. And it all because of him. Because all the things he had taken from her. She had died because of him, had put her family and friends through hell, because of that bastard and she needed to have her old life, her old self back. The only way was going through hell one more time. A life for a life. She had made her mind. She turned and hated the looked on Steve's face the instant she confirmed his biggest fear. "Yes, even if it gets me killed."

…

So that was it. There was nothing more to be said or done. She had come here to die. And it killed him. He thought he knew her. They shared a bed, a home, a life together. But it wasn't enough for her.

The space between them grew silent. There wasn't much left to talk about. Maybe the best thing for him was to leave her be, to let her do whatever she was planning, to go back in Washington and be done with everything. But he couldn't. He loved her that much. Yes, he loved her. Like crazy. There was no life without her in it. There was no moving on. It wasn't fate or some damn luck that was pulling her away from him. She was the one pushing him away and he wasn't willing the let the best part of his life to slip through his fingers.

Sharon looked at him and shook her head. At that moment she knew she had lost him forever and it almost brought her to her knees. For the first time in her life she found a person who saw her, her true self and she felt complete. The only other person to make her feel completely in touch with her feelings was Peggy. Odd enough they both loved the same man. _Love, ha!_ Yeah, she loved him. From the moment she heard the stories of the brave Captain America she fell in love with his image. The innocent admiration grew into something more powerful the day she met him. She got to know the man behind the legend and the admiration brought a whole new level of emotions into her heart. And then Paris happened and it made her believe that there was a chance that this great man could feel something for her. But now, while she was looking at him, defeat and disappointment written all over his face she felt alone all over again.

Then why wasn't she leaving? Why wasn't he? It was too much for her to bear. She turned to leave, when…

"Who's Eliot Hobbs?" Steve wasn't done. He didn't care what she wanted, needed. He wasn't going to let her kill herself. If the price of her staying alive was losing her then so be it.

That name always made her flinch. She was never ready to hear it. She wasn't ready for all the emotions that came with the mentioning of that damned name. The fear, the hate, the pain… The memory of the life leaving her body, her blood spilling on the floor. The coldness and the darkness that followed. All because of him.

"It's classified." Her voice trembled.

"I figured… but I don't care." His was low and grim. He watched her, carefully. Seeing the battle inside, he knew he struck a chord with name. "Who is he, Sharon?"

"I can't… Just forget about him and go home, Steve. We're done." She stormed out and sought refuge in the living room.

"I don't care if we're done or not. I don't care if you want me here or not. I'm not leaving you alone, not anymore. I stay, we get this thing over and after, if you still want me out of your life, I walk out. But I'm not leaving. I own your family that much, God, Carter you own them at least that."

She couldn't believe it. "Why are you bringing up my family? They have nothing to do with this. If it some weird attempt to make me change my mind it's not working and it's a cheap shot. Cut it out." She warned him.

"You can't scare me away, Sharon. Obviously, I'm the only thinking about the other people in your life to give a damn what happens with you, since you don't, so from now on do whatever you want, cause I'm not leaving you alone. I'm done arguing with you, done trying to make you come to me…" He was dead serious. Playing save did nothing, she was still hiding something. But he didn't care what it was, only that was going to get her killed. And he wasn't going to let that happened. It would probably destroy what they had, but he would do everything inhumanly possible to keep her alive and safe. "If you want my help great, my door's always open, if not…I told you thought luck, cause you're stuck with me."

She was about to say something very unpleasant, but knock on the door cut her off. She stared at it, trying to burn a hole on the damn thing. He had won yet another battle and it was starring to piss her off. She looked at him, at his smug triumph expression and her blood boiled.

He looked down at her from across the counter. "You better get that… your lunch is here. I ordered pizza, extra cheese. Just how you like it. "

"How thoughtful of you." She glared back.

Steve rubbed his face. "Open the door, Sharon. Eat something, get some rest. Sort out the mess in that pretty head of yours and get it together. God's my witness I'm running out of patience…"

Another knock.

Steve got the cue and headed for his bedroom. He leveled with her. "Is that some sort of a treat, Captain?"

He didn't bother to hide the look on his face. One she had seen many time while he was in combat mode, but this time, this fight was far more personal. So the attitude was far more lethal. "Yes it is!" She couldn't comprehend it, but she believed him. She had never seen him like this and it scared her a little. "Get the door, Sharon and tip the kid. You own him that much, senorita Carter." Steve got to the door. "After all he said you two have become great friends since you got here." He sighed and closed the doors of the spare bedroom behind him with a thud.

So he knew!

"Shit!" Sharon cursed her fading luck and went to get her pizza. Did she mention that was going to be a long night?

…


	6. Chapter 6

"You home yet?"

"Few blocks out actually. Checking to see how my night's going?" Sam laughed and took a bite of his hotdog. "Pretty great so far. You?"

Steve looked around the dark room. _Not so great for him_. "I know we're still tip-toeing around you and Hill, but I need a favor. Is she with you?"

Sam looked over to Maria. She was enjoying her veggie burger. That woman and her healthy diet would be the death of him. She noticed him staring and smiled. And then stuck her tongue out. _Yep, the death of him_. "Yep, she's with me. What do you need?"

"Ask if she ever heard the name Elliot Hobbs."

"Hold on…"

Steve could hear the muffled voices of Hill and Sam mixing with New York traffic. Few seconds later Hill's voice came into the phone. "Did you just ask about Elliot Hobbs?"

"I gather you've heard of him?" Finally some breakthrough.

" _Heard_ …yeah. I worked with guy for almost eight years till his death last year. He was killed in Washington after the whole fiasco with HYDRA and SHIELD. Elliot was one of our best operatives to that day…" The phone fell silent for a moment. "But he's dead… why are you asking?"

 _Dead, ha?_ The guy from the photo looked very much alive. "Because I'm pretty sure he's involved with whatever is going on with Carter."

Maria didn't get it. "Steve, the guy's dead, long gone. I went to his memorial service. He couldn't be involved in anything."

"Hold on a second, why a memorial service and not a funeral?"

"We never found a body. After the hell at HQ many of ours and theirs remained unidentified under the rebels." Another pause. "Are you suggesting Hobbs is still alive and is somehow involved in a completely irrelevant to him CIA case?"

Steve rubbed his tired eyes. "All I know the guy's alive and Sharon has some thick folder on him. That's how I got the name. I saw a photo of his that was taken two weeks ago and recognized the airport. So Hobbs being in the same city as Sharon at the same time should mean something, right?"

"But still doesn't make any sense. If Elliot is still alive, why haven't he contacted any of the emergency channels of SHIELD? He could have contacted me or…" She was careful not to reveal that Coulson was still alive and running the current division of SHIELD. "Never mind, he could have found way to let us know he's ok. Hobbs was one of ours greatest assets. I don't get it?"

"Neither do I, but there is something wrong with this whole thing. Sharon went pale when I mentioned his name, like she couldn't stand the sound of it."

"It's weird." Maria had stopped and pulled Sam by her side. She had tossed the burger and said goodbye to the long waited time off. Hobbs and Sharon shared history together. Elliot Hobbs was the go-to-guy when it came to preparing the rookies. So, yeah, Sharon had studied under his wing and had become one of the most promising young agents. Because of Hobbs. And like the most of the young recruits she had a crush on him. No biggie, that was then. She was different person back then and she had Steve now. Maria knew that the mission required someone with special skills, but Sharon's involvement in any CIA assignments this early after joining the agency were a mystery. Could Hobbs have something to do with Sharon being in Colombia? "Look, Steve, I've worked with Hobbs, if he wants to stay in the shadows then he stays in the shadows."

"What are you telling me?" Steve sensed Maria tensing.

"You need to ask Sharon what's going on. If Elliot is still alive he must come forth and returned to the States. He is walking liability. I don't care how good he was in his job, someone like him should not wonder around just like that. If the CIA knows something we didn't know back then it's a shitty move not to mention it, Hobbs was, _is…_ SHIELD business… " Sam looked over to her and mouthed " _we_ ". She sighed and nodded. "Yes, Falcon, we, SHIELD, our business… just because the agency doesn't function anymore it doesn't mean we are not part of his history… so, _shhh_ and let me finish, ok?"

Sam smiled and pulled back, hands in the air. "Thank you. Red point for you."

"Now what?"

"The hard part. Talk to Sharon and find out what's the hell is going on with her and Hobbs… Jesus, Steve, we buried the guy with honors. Hundreds came… What are we missing?"

"Only one way to find out."

…

Sharon needed to gain her focus back and what better way to do it than dusting and old friend out of the bags. A former colleague of hers has sent her the package in a form of a present, and right now it really did feel like a present. A present, perfectly fitting for the occasion.

She sat on the far edge of the bed and unpacked the wrapped in red paper box. She took the gun out and laid it in front of her. Memories flooded her mind. She picked it up and let the cool material brush against her skin. She held it for another minute, then lifted up and took it apart. Cleaned it and reassemble it. And then took it apart one more time. Then reassemble it as again. She did it countless times. Her mind clearing after each time, till the action became just this: an action. No feelings behind it, no reason. Only her muscles remembering what it felt like to hold it.

But it wasn't enough. It didn't bring enough satisfaction. She needed to use it, to bring his power down on those who hurt her in the past.

Some twenties minutes later Steve stormed in the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind. Sharon didn't even lift her gaze, she knew he was angry. _Again_.

"Didn't your parents teach you how to knock?"

"Right around the time when they thought me to take bullshit from no one. I know about Hobbs."

Sharon let a sarcastic snort out. "You've seen his face, you know his name and somehow that makes you an expert on the guy. That's laughable." She put the gun in the box and closed it. "Or maybe you had some help from outside," She stood up and picked the box. "Maybe you called a favor from Tony," She kneeled down next to the bed and slid the box underneath it. She did it, not even slightly troubled by the scrutinizing look on Steve's face. This dance between them was getting old. "Or maybe Hill lent a helping hand… won't matter…" She stood up and looked at him. His eyes said it all. He was done too, demanding answer was no more. He demanded actions, from her. He had some of the answers, pieces of the information, just not the entire picture.

"It matters to me. You need to tell me what's going on so I could…"

"So you could what, help. Please, you know it better than I do that that's not possible." She paused for a second, only for a second to collect her thoughts, to assess the situation. It was now or never. "You know I died that night… not once, but twice." Her voice broke. "And it feels like I can't move pass that and go on… it's like I'm stuck in that apartment and in that damn night." She wrapped her arms around her. To shield herself from the world.

Her admission destroyed him, but her pain was no excuse for her stupidity. Yes, stupid was the right word for her behavior right now. She knew better, she was though better. So he kept pushing. "Will going after Hobbs make it any better?" He wanted to touch, to sooth her, but his hand froze midair. There was no time for affection, no matter how much the devastated look on her beautiful face was getting to him.

She rubbed her hands. "One way to find out."

…

They took the argument in the living room. Sharon pored herself a big glass of whiskey and took it in one shot.

Steve watched her carefully. "Still doesn't explain why you didn't tell me."

Sharon forced the glass on the kitchen counter with such veracity, almost shattering it. "I did try to tell you…" She let a troubled sigh. "God, I was close to telling you so many times, but couldn't ignore the look you gave me every time I brought going back to work." She shook her head and then laughed, that taunting sarcastic laughed she had mastered. Sharon searched his face for even a sign of understanding, but there was none. "Turns out I was right."

Steve knew what she was talking about, but admitting it to her was a bit more complicated than what she could ever imagine. If he had told her the truth earlier things might have been different. He didn't. He chose to lie to her, to protect her. Thinking about it now, he realized he had been protecting only himself. Much happened that night, things only he knew and wasn't strong enough to confide, not to her, not to anyone. All he could do was to look at her and carefully plan his next move.

Tears weald up behind her eyes, but she fought them. He did nothing to tell her, to show her she was wrong, that she had imagined everything. A question she had asked herself countless time popped in her mind: _will he ever love me if doesn't except who I am?_ Now she knew the answer, he wasn't. He didn't understand her and he could never love her. She was going to end up alone as usual, because men didn't get the likes of her. They needed someone to stay home, to stay in the kitchen, to pop baby after a baby. Sharon just didn't know Steve _freaking Captain America_ Rogers was one of those men. She thought he respected her, the way she was. Obviously he didn't and it destroyed her.

"I think you should leave…" It took her a great deal of strength to come up with the words.

Steve shook his head. "I'm not leaving you. Despite of what you may think of me, I'll never leave you again. I did it that night and almost lost you, not again…" His tone turned dead serious. "Never again." He melted the space between them in few steps forcing her to grab the counter behind to steady herself. His blue eyes bore into hers. "You think that night changed you…" He pulled her in his arms and to his surprise she didn't resist. He could over power her bot physically and emotionally. He knew it, she knew it. "It changed me too. It showed me a nightmare I've relieved to many times and I'm done with it. If stepping into this keeps you alive, but away from me, then so be it. I'm done playing nice with you, so push me away, break it all off, I don't care. I'm here to stay. I've lost too much and I'm not losing you too."

His face was so close to hers, she knew he meant business. She was losing him over a job. The rational part of her brain was trying to convince her to let him help, but something much darker in her heart stopped her.

She tried to push him away. "It happened with me, Steve, not with you." He didn't move. "Why are you…"

He grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her back. It wasn't that that shocked her. Something in his eyes was different, something she rarely saw in him. _Fear_. "You smiled at me, you know that. You smiled at me and that was it, you were gone and there was nothing that I could do about it. So no, Sharon, it didn't only happen to you. It happened to me too."

He let her go and she regretted his absence immediately. Something about his admission took her to the verge of falling apart. She needed him more than ever. But she could only watch him come undone before her.

"That night doesn't only haunt you, it haunts me too. I let you go, I left you alone and you got hurt. "

"What are you saying?" She managed as whisper.

"I'm saying that I lied to you, I'm saying that if something ever happens with you I'm not gonna be able to survive it…"

"You lied to me…" She approached him, but couldn't get near him. Huge lump had stuck in her throat. "About what?"

Steve took a deep breath, his heart threatening to burst through his chest. But he had to tell her. "They couldn't reach to you, for hours… somehow I knew, but didn't get there in time…" He went to her and took her face in his palms. "I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you in time. I'm so sorry you had go through it alone…" She tried to pull away, but he would let her. "I was terrified that the medics won't come in time, that you would die in my arms, that I'll never have the chance to tell you how important you had become to me for the brief time since we met. I was trying to keep you conscious, to give you some courage, but was too afraid to think of anything. And then you smiled at me… " He saw, felt the tears fell down over his fingers, bit didn't stop. "The same smile I see every morning when I wake up. Warm and promising, that makes you look like an angel and no matter how safe you're at home with me, the fear creeps back in my heart and I'm stuck in that night again. I can't move pass it either. That night changed me too and I'll be damned if I let it happen again." He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, "Never again, Sharon. Don't make me go through it again, please."

The plea finally broke her and she collapsed in his arms.


	7. Chapter 7

Sharon sat on the kitchen counter, her legs draped over the cabinets bellow; swinging them back and forth, she looked like an impatient child. "So what do we do now?"

Steve moved toward her, till his body didn't settle between her thighs, hands placed on each side. "Beats me, I've never been into the emotional stuff."

Sharon laughed. "Like I am?" She shook her head. "Don't look at me for pointers, mister." Her laughter subsided, her tone turning serious. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm pretty sure that's my line."

Even after her small fist connected with his shoulder, Steve expression remained unfazed. "We can always go back to fighting," she eyed him carefully. "If that's what you want?"

He rubbed the spot where she hit him. _Small, but strong hands._ The thought tugged the corners of his lips into a smile. "Nah, I'm perfectly fine with staying put and doing nothing. I told you. I'm here to stay."

"Good, because I'm not planning on letting you go either." She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. "Besides," she let a deep sigh, "you've kinda grown on me, Rogers."

Steve moved his hands to her hips. "Ditto, Carter." Then he leaned down and kissed her.

The kiss was passionate and long waited. The weeks apart did take their toll, turning the hunger in something purely carnal. It was beyond reason, it was an animal instinct. At this moment he didn't care for anything out of this room, and by the noises Sharon was making she was right there with him. His need matched hers. He pulled her against his body, forgetting about the past with every passing moment. She felt so good in his embrace. He could have her right her on the counter, and he would die a happy man. In his defense, the chosen outfit did absolutely nothing to ease his desire.

She was the one to break it off, after the scary reality of his hands slowly finding their way up her dress. "Steve," she managed, barely, over her racing heartbeat. "Maybe we should get things straight before moving on with…" she gestured to his hands, then to his darkened with desire eyes, "this."

It was more than inhuman effort to pull away from her gorgeous, swollen lips. "I know, but I've missed you, Shar…" He stole another quick kiss. "Those few weeks almost didn't kill me," another one, and another one. She was losing her train of thought. The kiss lingered and she was a goner. He was too, big time. "Don't force me to let go, because I can't, I don't want to…"

He deepened the kiss, but Sharon had to push him away. Her right hand found his heart and gently forced him back. She could sense his regret, but the intensity of his racing heart was robbing her of any rational thought, _but any way_. "You better stand down, Soldier. We're circling around dangerous waters here." It was hard for her too. If he was slowly dying without her, she was ten times the dead man he was during her little escapade. _Ok, it wasn't an escapade, it was work_ , but she had worked before and every time after the gig was done, she would go home to him. Those past weeks she came home to an empty apartment. To say no to him, when her entire body craved him was more than a sacrifice. It was pure torture. "We need our heads to be clear, if we're going to try and salvage our relationship. You here with me?" _Please be!_

His hand covered hers, the other palming her face. "You bet I am…but can't definitely say I'm not regretting ever wanting to talk."

"Not talking got us here." She smiled and leaned in his hand; closing her eyes, she indulged herself in his touch. "Only, I'm not sure where to start. So much happened…"

He cut her off. "Before we begin, I've been dying to find out something first." His gaze went up and down her body. Painted toe nails, _checked,_ tanned legs, tanned body, _checked and checked_. She clearly dyed her hair, _so check that too_. But he couldn't pass the…

Sharon frowned. "God, don't tell me you're still fussing about the dress and the underwear?" She didn't have to be a psychic to get where he was going with those hungry eyes. "They're just pieces of fabric, Steve, clothing, nothing more."

"Very tiny pieces of fabric." His eyes were glued on the hem of the dress, ever so shyly covering her legs. Sharon crossed her arms over her chest, forcing him to look at her right in the eyes. "Pieces of fabric I could swear I've never seen."

"You kinda haven't stopped staring at them ever since I've put them on."

"Yeah, but are they new or…" His mind drifted.

"Now, now…" she gently tapped him on the hip. "Don't wrap your mind around this; we have far more important thing to discuss than my underwear."

He nodded. He understood. Even though he could occupy his time, _their_ time, with much pleasant things, they had quite a lot to go over. "So, tell me about Hobbs. How's he connected to all of this?"

Sharon took a deep breath and let it go. She looked around then settled her eyes on Steve. There was a lot more understanding now than there was before. Maybe they still had a chance. "Whatever Maria had told you about him, assuming it was her…" Steve nodded, so she continued. "Forget about it. It is all a lie. Or maybe it's not, I'm not sure about anything anymore." She lost it for a second. But Steve reassuringly placed his hand on her knee and squeezed. "Anyway, I get she told you he _died_ last year."

"She did."

"Turns out he didn't. The bastard walked out without a scratch. And he walked away richer and more powerful than he could ever imagine. That's it. You would think that he would go somewhere sunny to spend all of the newly found fortune, but our dear Elliot grew greedy." She stopped the reality of what she was going to say slowly creeping.

Steve realized it was hard for her to talk about it, but it was a start. He needed more information. Whatever was going on, it was bigger than both of them. "That some story, Carter, but still doesn't explain why you are here, _undercover_ , when everyone, especially Hobbs, could've easily found you."

"You said it yourself, some cover it is if I'm using my own name."

"You're not hiding?" His faced hardened.

"Nope!".

He took a step back and she was ready for the fallout.

"You're more like the bait then." His voice scary low. "You're not setting the trap, you're the trap."

"Bait…" She pushed forward, till her feet didn't touch the ground. Suddenly, she was no longer leveled with him. Steve towered her once more, but this was the only way. She wasn't afraid of him, or of his reactions anymore. The time had come. "Judge, jury, executioner… for Hobbs," her tone, her expression changing, "I would be all."

And after more than an hour of Steve's rants Sharon was about done with him. Ok he needed it, but it was one whole hour of her sitting down practically doing nothing but nodding, and agreeing with him, and going against her better judgment, even though it felt wrong on so many levels.

Finally Steve was pretty exhausted himself too. He went to the couch and collapsed next to her. Burying his face in his palms, he stayed like this for another minute. Sharon didn't make any move to comfort him. She knew better than that.

He rubbed his face, then turned to look at her.

"Just promise me it's not a suicide mission, ok?"

Sharon shifted uncomfortably. "Steve, come on, you know it's not like that…" she took his face in her palms, but that didn't ease him down. "The only thing I can promise is that I'll try my best the only one to get hurt to be Eliot." She let a small smile to play on her face.

Steve shook his head, "It's not the time for cracking up jokes, Shar." But her smile warmed his heart, so he smiled back.

"Fine," she sighed, then gently patted his cheek, before standing up and walking away.

"What's your plan?" He shouted after her. If he couldn't talk her out of it, then might as well be there for her. In any way possible.

"Well…" her voice came from the bathroom, "before you crushed the party I was expecting a call from my contact, but the kid has disappeared on me and now I've my hands tied." She walked out the bedroom, putting a plain white t-shirt over the pair of dark denim's she had changed into. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, forcing her to push it behind her ears.

"So now what?" He asked as she sat next to him.

She shrugged "Wait I guess." Sharon let her head to fell back. "I hate waiting."

Steve couldn't help it but to laugh. "You sure?"

"Don't mock me," she warned with a playful tone, "I'm not in the mood."

But as she sat there, actually feeling sorry for herself, something occurred to her. She didn't have to sit around and wait for things to happen, she could make them happen.

"Hey Steve," she straighten up.

He got where she was headed with the " _Hey Steve"_ thing and immediately frowned. "Why I have the feeling I won't like what you're about to say?"

She shrugged as mischievous grin blossomed on her pretty face.

 _Yep, he was definitely going to hate it._


	8. Chapter 8

"Not that I'm complaining, but…" Steve looked at the countless grinning faces as they pass them by, "what are we doing here?"

Sharon looked at him then at the street ahead. "It's nice, ha."

No it wasn't just _nice,_ he thought. It was more than nice, it was really beautiful. With its narrow streets and colorful surroundings, the Old Town drew people from all around the world. People like the two of them. But they differed from everyone else. They weren't here to have fun, to enjoy themselves, to " _wander leisurely, savoring the architectural details, street life and the local snack along the way"_ as one of the many brochures he read at the airport suggested. At least he wasn't. Because Sharon was here on a mission, too focused on that to notice anything else, and all he did was to worry about her. How to keep her alive and safe, without damaging the thing they had. _More he noted_ , damaging it even more.

"Why are you frowning?" she asked as the passed one of the many street vendors.

„What?" He hadn't realized that he was and even though Sharon's comment pulled him from his grim thoughts, the frown remained sealed on his face. Watching her standing there not understanding him made his mind drift to even darker places. "Just thinking about something. It's nothing..." he managed.

"Okay…" She peered at him once more not sure what to make of his scrutinizing look, and let's face it she didn't want to push any further. He had carried that look ever since they left her place. You don't have to be a psychic to figure out what was going through his mind. He hated what she was doing and he damn sure show it every chance he got. Earlier tonight they had achieved some sort of understanding. She would do what she came here for and he would be nothing but supportive. At least she thought they had. Turns out she was wrong.

"The sight-seeing aside, why are we here?"

"Well," Sharon cleared her throat, her mind, and giving that she didn't want to go over the whole her being here alone thing again, she was glad Steve was focused on the now, "Eliot has a house in the neighborhood; he bought it couple of years back, and we are going to check it out."

"Why?" Steve asked cautiously.

"The owner is dead, right," she asked with a mysterious flair in her eyes.

"Right."

"And since Eliot doesn't have any living relatives, wife or a girlfriend, the place is supposed to be a ghost town… more likely a ghost house, right?"

"I'm guessing that it's not the case?"

"As far as the electrical bill is concerned it's not. See, I managed to trace Eliot to Cartagena, but the trail died at airport. It's like he'd disappeared into thin air. I tried every possible alias he had, but I've come up with absolutely _nada_ on each of them. Then I remembered about the house and put it under surveillance…"

"Wait a second," he stopped, forcing her to do the same. Grabbing her hand just above the elbow Steve urged Sharon against one of the nearest walls, as far as possible from the crowds. He tried to keep his tone calm and opened. "If you end up saying that you have known where that guy was this whole time…" _I might actually loose it for real._ He didn't dare to finish his thoughts out loud, and yet anger boiled his blood. Sharon Carter didn't do rookie mistakes. Period!

"What?" She stumbled back, trying to unlatch herself from his iron grip. And yes, the grip had tightened around her arm. Steve was obviously getting angry. Again! _What's new, ha?_ "It's not what I was going to say…"

She tried to continue, but he interrupted her „What about back-up?"

Sharon didn't need to be manhandled to answer a simple question. She eyed his hand with a warning and he had to let her go. „What about it? "

„Do you have any? "

„What does back-up has to do with anything? Besides," she smiled like it was no big deal, „what better back-up than Captain America himself."

„Damn it Sharon, this isn't funny." He didn't care about the looks that people were giving them, or the fact that he felt like a complete idiot for trying to reason with her, and not tossing her over his shoulder and dragging her home back to the States. Whatever she was doing it wasn't like her. This wasn't the Sharon Carter he had fallen in love with.

The sudden realization made him dizzy for a second. He lost his trail of thought. He was really in love with her. No wonder he'd been acting up lately. And it wasn't anger to motivate him. It was fear. Fear of losing her.

„First of all I know it's not funny, " her voice broke through the emotional mist in his head and pulled him from his thoughts. Her very exasperated voice he noted. „I am not taking any of this lightly and I know what I'm doing. And for your information I do have back-up, there is a local team on standing by, waiting for me to give them a go. That of course will happen when and _if even decide_ to do so," she clarified. „I'm not willing to involve anyone else unless I have concrete evidence that Hobbs is here, ok? I'm not going to waste a perfectly good opportunity to nail him over someone rushing with their judgment." She had made her mind on that.

Not involving anyone else. _What a joke, he_ thought. „And when would they join you, if I may ask? When you are too dead to do something about Hobbs? "

The bitterness of his tone got to her. „I can't do this right now. " She pushed away from the wall and merged with ever growing crowd. Sharon knew he had followed her. „I told you before no one is forcing you to be here, you're free to go. "

„And then what, you're left alone to deal with this guy, ha? " He called after her. „From what you've told me the bastard might be out of your league, and obviously you're too emoti..."

„Don't you dare tell me I'm too emotionally involved in this," she turned and snapped at him. „I'm sick and tired of everyone telling what I should be feeling. So what if he is out my league, he's not invincible and I know I can taking him down. I don't need your vote of confidence not on that, not on anything in a matter of fact, okay? _I don't need saving!"_ She pressed on every word.

She then turned away from him and hurried ahead.

Steve was stunned with her reaction. He knew she was still hiding something from him, but he never imagined Sharon losing it over some of his comments. She always managed to come back with some witty quip and put him at his place, but not this time. No, sir! He didn't even recognize her any more. And it scared him. What the hell was going on with her?

„Carter wait."

„What…" she said without turning, „is it time for another of your lectures?"

He caught up with her. „Time out, okay," he gestured with his hands. They didn't stop, just kept walking. „I'm not going to pretend to know what really is happening here, with you," he added, the calmness in his voice admirable, „but I really want you to know that you can count on me for everything."

„Yeah, sure." She nodded absently. She wasn't going to fall for that.

„I mean it. When we take this guy down, when _you_ take him down..." he clarified with such certainty that had Sharon wonder for a second.

„Then what, Steve? " she didn't need to wonder, she needed to know. „Everything magically goes back to its place, and we move on with our lives, we move on with _our life_? " Even though it came out little too harsh than what she intended, Sharon hoped Steve would jump in with a certain _yes,_ but after couple of second of dead silence between them, silence that didn't fit the cheerful atmosphere of the city, she knew that he no longer was so sure of anything. He no longer believed they could have a future together, and obviously he didn't believe in her anymore.

He took a deep breath and looked at her. His eyes lingered on hers, reading the unmistakable hope behind the determination, but also the force, the will of a woman who wasn't willing to put her feelings before her duty. He wanted to help, to protect her, but he also understood that whatever had happened with her was painful enough to set her off. _Sharon Carter didn't rush things_. This is why he needed to be here, with her now more than ever.

„Then we talk I guess, " he said simply.

 _Fine_ was all she managed.

...

"This is it," Sharon came to a sudden stop after one of the many street cafes. She pulled Steve next to her as she pretended to read one of the many posters on the wall next to them. "The last one on the left," she subtly nodded toward the yellow colored, there store high piece of history at the very end of the street, never removing her eyes from her pretended reading.

Steve stole a glance of the house and lost his words. The damn thing wasn't just a house; it was full blown colonial mansion. It didn't surprise him how beautiful it was, and even though it followed the style of the most architecture from around, it looked unique. The house that probably once was bursting with life, with soft orange light emanating from its every window, now looked like it didn't belong to a place where color and fun were part of everything. It was dark and freighting, unwelcoming. But it fit the feeling growing inside of him. The house had its secrets, just like Sharon did. Secrets worth lying and killing for.

But he needed his head clear for this one. "I didn't know SHIELD paid as good," he returned his attention to her. The sooner they were done with this the better

"It didn't," she reassured him, "Eliot comes from money. He collected houses the way other people collect stamps."

"So money isn't the issue here, because if I had even the half of what this guy is having I wouldn't be running around playing hide and seek with the CIA, I'll find the sunniest beach in the world and spend all my time and money there, enjoying my newfound freedom from SHIELD."

"Honestly," she asked, her question hanging in the air. "I'm not sure of anything anymore. All I know that this is it…" she said tiredly.

„What do you mean?"

"That there is nothing beyond Colombia, there is nothing beyond this house. If this turns out to be another dead lead then I'm done, I've failed and Eliot gets away." The mere thought of that bastard walking away from this victorious made her entire body ache. "He can't get away, Steve, he just can't…"

"Look Sharon," Steve took her hand and let her away from the people. The pain in her eyes was too much to handle, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't take it away. "You're still hiding something…" she tried to protest, but he continued, " and I don't care anymore, okay? All I know is that you need my help, and not because you can't handle this Hobbs guy, but because of what happens after that. He was your friend, your mentor and he lied to you, he betrayed you. The consequences of that action will be on you, not on him…so please, just let me help you…"

She tried to pull away, tears burning her eyes, but he stopped her.

"I know it's against your nature to ask for help, to be seen as vulnerable, but…" Steve stopped and reconsidered what he was going to say next. And even though there was always the possibility the thing to backfire in his face, this time he would go with the whole truth. "Do it for me, okay?"

"What?" she managed as a whisper, confused by the look in his eyes.

"You heard me, do it for me. I'm going to be the selfish one for once... I told you, if anything ever happens with you I…"

"I never stood a chance…" she said somberly, cutting him off.

"What?"

"Last year in Paris. I was doomed to fail from the moment I walked through that door and in Anatoly's life. They knew who I was from the beginning. There was nothing for me to accomplish, nothing to discover. I was just a pawn in their perverted little game." She could have been angry if she was too exhausted already.

"Whose game? Who told you that?" he pushed even though he knew he was hurting her. All that mattered was that she was finally opening up to him.

"Anton, right after he shot me." There was something in the way she said it. The admission felt cold and distant. "I remember trying to catch my breath, to ignore pain and get up... " the emotions raw and unmistakable. She was there, again. "I remember Anton slowly walking toward me, with the pure satisfaction written on his smug face." _He had the American bitch, just like he said he would_. "Every breath, every move I took drained what was left of my life. When he kneeled next to me… I remember him pushing the hair from my face and whispering something, but I didn't get what it was. He made sure my eyes stayed on his, he enjoyed seeing me like this, in pain…" A cold shiver went through her body. "God, I felt like I was going to be sick just from his touch, I was so focused on his face to pay attention to what his was saying. Everything after that became a blur. The doctors said it was from the blood lost and the shock. They said I may never remember what happened, and that probably was for the best, but I…"

"You started having nightmares."

She simply nodded. Steve was there most of the nights when she would wake up, covered in cold sweat, screaming. They would talk for hours after her episodes and she always felt safe with him. And yet the nightmares returned the next night, and the night after… She had them for mounts. Until the night, couple of weeks ago, when she woke up in the middle of the night, remembering everything she had repressed for so long. Every detail from that night came to her and she realized why her mind played her like this. Why is had tortured her like this.

"But they've stopped; you haven't had them in weeks."

"They didn't stop, Steve, they simply served their purpose. I was too busy focusing on copping getting rid of them, when all I should have done was to embrace them. Once I did they stopped being nightmares… they became memories. Ones I've tried so hard to erase, because I thought that they might too much for me handle."

"What did you remember?"

Steve voice let her back to her Paris apartment. She knew how she'd managed to take Anton down, even with two bullets tearing her apart and half of her blood spilling on the floor. She knew what kept her alive that night, and I why she had to be the one to go stop Hobbs.

She remembered what Anton had whispered to her just before she got up and broke his neck. She couldn't imagine forgetting the moment ever again, the moment when her life changed forever.

She was there again, as if time hadn't passed.

 _"_ _He said you were a fighter, your friend Hobbs…"_


	9. Chapter 9

When she was done spilling her heart out panic gripped his.

"Jesus Sharon…" Steve's head lowered, almost in defeat. He couldn't fight her anymore.

She took a step closer. "I need you to understand… I could have given you hundreds of explanations why I am doing this… a hundred more reasons why you should help me. Weather because it's our job, our duty, or simply because it's the right thing to do… and yet I didn't, because I'm no longer sure I care about those things."

She took another step toward him, this time forcing him to look at her. Regardless of what people might say, it wasn't always easy telling the truth. Especially when so much was at stake. She took a deep steadying breath before continuing.

"What Eliot did to me he'll do to someone else. Knowing I could have stopped him, but didn't…" her voice broke, tears filled her eyes, „It's a burden I don't want to carry for the rest of my life…it's too much!" _Even for me._

Seconds passed and when he said nothing Sharon had to pull back. Yep, telling the truth sucked, because it left you exposed and vulnerable, and at the mercy of others. _At the mercy of others_ , she never wanted to feel this. To be nothing but a witness in your own life was something Sharon was never going to allow to happen, ever again. It was a promised she had made for herself after the countless hours of rehabilitation, after every nightmare that made her question her sanity, after realizing who did this to her. She was going to do everything in her power to stop Eliot from hurting anyone else the way he had hurt her and if Steve didn't want to have anything to do with this then so be it. She wasn't stopping or quitting. She was going to survive this, alone if she had to.

Steve didn't miss a thing. Not the tremble in her voice when she told him her darkest secret. Not the slight shake of her head or the disappointment that darkened her beautiful eyes when he said nothing. Not the hesitant step she too back, probably to shield herself from his judgement. Not the single tear that rolled down her cheek, and how she gently wiped it with the tip of her fingers. He didn't miss a thing.

He also realized something. It wasn't revenge that pushed her. Well, not only. There was no doubt in his mind she wanted the Hobbs guy dead at best, or that she'll do anything to make him pay. Hearing her heartfelt admission he recognized the guilt in her voice. The guilt of the survivor. When she told him that there was a possibility Hobbs might do to others what he did to her he knew what she meant. What if she was already too late and their fate have been sealed? The guilt was going to consume her she'd end up blaming herself for that for the rest of her life.

He was only able to recognize it because he once felt the same way. Maybe he still did at times, but once he accepted that there were always gonna be things that he couldn't be able to prevent or change, only then he was ready to let go of all the anguish and fear. He didn't have to imagine how she must have felt all this time, he was way too familiar with the feeling, making it easier to understand her. He still feared for her safety, for her live, but now he was certain that once this was over he would have her back. She just needed to close this page of her life and move on.

Steve filled his chest with the night air, releasing a steadying breath and said, "So, now what?"

Sharon narrowed eyes studied him. "What, not speech?"

He had to smile.

"No speech. For now," he hinted. „Can't promise anything for later though." Then his tone changed. "If you're in I'm in."

Even after Sharon turned her attention toward the house, his eyes remained focused on her. He gave her some time to think about it. He wasn't promising an easy way out, but a partnership and it was up to her to decide.

Sharon examined the dark silhouette of what once was Eliot most prized possession. The house was her last resort. Beyond that she simply didn't know. Only time could tell, and she didn't feel like waiting any. „I'm in. "

Her voice was clearer now, sounding calm and ready. He followed her eyes and prepared himself. "Then let's go get the sonofabitch."

…

Since the house was the last on the street, abandon for almost a year, the crowds faded here. Sharon took it as a good sign. She didn't need the additional trouble of someone spotting them breaking in and calling the cops. This needed to be done properly.

They got to the main door and as expected the lock was broken, so one obstacle down, couple hundred more to go. She was about to go in when all of the sudden Steve pushed her aside and went for the handle himself. "Stay behind me."

She shot him a disbelieving look and snorted, "Yeah, right." Then reached under her leather jacket and pulled a small gun. "If you're not hiding that shield of yours somewhere in those pants it'd be better if _you_ stay behind be." She checked the magazine and the barrel to make sure the gun was loaded and stepped in front of him.

She was about to ask him if he was ready when she noticed he was frowning at her. _Oh, for the love of god._ "Now what," she said impatiently.

Now probably wasn't the best time to tell her he felt almost naked without his shield. Being shot stinks and being dead wasn't something he was looking forward too. So excuse him if he wasn't felling it, you know, the _walking-straight-into-the-trap_ thing they were about to do. He chased the grim thoughts away. "It's nothing. Let's go."

 _Are you kidding me?_ Sharon bit her lower lip in order to stop from bursting into laughter. She basically read his mind and _my, my_ who knew Captain America can be this cute. "Don't worry. I'll keep you save," she winked at him, forced the door with her shoulder and disappeared into the darkness.

…

The house was bigger than the rest of its neighbors. Usually those that were as big as this one became small hotels. He wouldn't be surprised if Hobbs bought this one so it could fit enormous ego. Steve didn't know the guy, but he sounded like someone who definitely had a huge ego.

With its high ceilings and spacious rooms the house that once offered plenty of possibilities was now filled only with silence and darkness. Everything lay frozen in time. Most of the plants were long dead. The pool was drained maybe before the house saw the last of its owner, the furniture outside exposed at the elements. Steve didn't expect much to change once they got inside. Something worrying settled in his stomach.

Dead leafs cracked underneath her boots. Her eyes darted from one direction to another, searching, hoping. God, everything around her was dead. She could point her gun at any direction, aiming at nothing but empty space. An empty effort to stop someone who she knew wasn't here. The house itself was dead, and it felt so wrong being here with nothing but pitch black darkness before her eyes and troubling thoughts in her mind. _What if this didn't work?_

They checked every floor, every room, finding only few remnants of the people that once occupied the house. They couldn't find anything personal, only few furniture pieces, covered in thick layers of dust and sand, thanks to the couple of broken windows here and there, undisturbed by the time. There was no proof of Eliot being here in the past mounts. In a matter of fact, there was no proof anyone being here for a very long time.

Steve knew what that meant. He looked over at her and pain pierced his heart. She had being chasing a ghost this entire time.

Sharon stopped in the middle of the living room to pick something up. It was a page of one of the local newspapers, probably carried here by the wind. The article on the upper side of the page was from five weeks ago and it was about the fatal shooting of two of the local law enforcement officers. She remembered reading about the accident when she first landed here. It'd be three weeks next Friday. She suddenly felt tired. She tossed the newspaper aside, praying her legs won't betray her and she wouldn't collapse of the floor.

 _This wasn't happening_ … "There's nothing here," she whispered, pain coting her voice.

"Sharon…"

He sounded so far away. Transfixed by the possibility that she might have failed she barely registered him approaching her. She just kept repeating " _there's nothing here_ " over and over again, as she forced her aching body against the nearest column. She dropped the Glock next to her, as she turned and rested her back against the cold rock. The sound of metal hitting the floor was followed by the rustled of her clothes as she sagged against the column. Eyes closed, she found the hardness of the rock soothing.

"Hey, hey, hey…" Steve knelled in front of her. "Sharon, look at me."

She shook her head. She couldn't do it.

"Come on, don't do this," he pleaded. "Just…talk to me, ok."

"I can't." Her voice was barely a whisper, a whisper filled with agony.

"Yes you can." He gently stroked her hair, pushing few strains of hair behind her ears. "You can trust me."

Sharon reluctantly opened her eyes only to find Steve's piercing blue eyes boring into hers. They were warm and welcoming, just like his voice, like his touch, and all she wanted to do was to scream till the pain goes away.

"There's nothing here…." Her voice shook with every word.

"Sharon, don't. You probably did everything you could…"

She let her head drop back. "I don't know anymore. Maybe there is something I've missed..."

There was no doubt in his mind she has, he have seen it first hand, leaving one more scenario to be revised.

„Tell me about your contact."

„Who? Pablo."

„You said you couldn't get in touch with him. "

„Yeah, so? "

„What was he doing for you? " Steve decided on a more subtle approach.

Sharon straightened. She got where this was going, and even though she wasn't in the mood for games, she agreed on humoring him. „For intel mostly. I figured I couldn't use any of our agents, for obvious reasons..."

 _The never underestimate your enemy_ rule Steve thought. Like it or not Eliot was a good operative. _Once._ Whether he was on the side of the good or the bad now he knew too much about how the intelligence world worked. Sharon was smart enough to anticipate the possibility of him _accidentally_ stumbling on her back up so she removed them out of the equation,

„So, " she continued, „I asked a friend of mine to give me the name of some of his local contacts. Someone who can keep a low profile. Someone who I can trust. Pablo was his first choice. There was no reason for any doubt…" She stopped for a second and looked at her feet, clearly thinking about something. „I told him to keep an eye on the house, that's all. I never explained why or who I was looking for, and he never seemed to care…"

Steve frowned. "Is there any change he might have fed you false intel?"

"I don't see any reason why. For people like him this it's a simple _quid pro quo_ type of situation, nothing more. Whatever Pablo and _my friend_ have to sort out it's on them. Trust me," she gave him a meaningful look, "you wouldn't want to be on my friend's bad side."

Steve examined her. Carefully. He hated to be the one stating the obvious, but she didn't give him much of a choice. "Then what do you think happened?"

She shook her head and sighed. "I don't know. I really don't. Maybe something scared him, or…"

"Or maybe," he cut her off, "there is nothing here."

She looked tormented by the suggestion but didn't argue. "So now what? I just... give up."

"No!" He stood up. "We regroup. You need to rest." _God knows I do to._ "There isn't much here and we're nothing more than sitting ducks. To be honest I don't feel like spending the night in a Colombian prison," he teased.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. _Progress_. There were no answers in the empty place, just questions and doubts. He hated what she was going through, and the fact that there wasn't much to be done to relieve her from this torment was killing him. He'd been there and it was a nightmare. To question your every action and to relive every moment, asking yourself what if I've done this differently would it have changed a thing was a living hell.

"Come on." He extended his hand. "Let's go home."

For the first time in a very long time Sharon did something that was against her nature.

She gave up.

…

The empty terrace provided the much needed silence for Eliot. He had to escape all of the noise and chaos of the crowded room. He had to think. Carter was never supposed to get this close to him. _She wasn't even supposed to know he was alive._ Instead of enjoying his new found freedom from the trivial he had to figure out a way from this whole mess.

He drained his glass in a swift motion and was about to go back when he saw one of his new associates approaching him.

"A word, Mr. Hobbs?"

Eliot took a step back. "Sure."

"Mr. Hobbs," he began calmly. "My employer is a patient man, but even he has to draw the line somewhere. _Your_ agent Carter has become a problem. You know that problems are meant to be fixed, situations…handled."

Eliot needed to tread carefully. "I'm sure she knows nothing important."

"Maybe. Still… her very presence means she knows enough. She had already made the connection between you and Volkov, hence her littler vacation here. We simply cannot afford her finding out about our organization." The man spoke directly to Eliot, a subtle threat resonating in his voice.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Handle this, handle her…or will have to do it for you."

"The way you handled those two cops?"

"That was unfortunate," the man admitted, "but don't let it fool you. We'll do whatever it takes to keep our existence secret from the public. By any means necessary, if we have to." He pressed on every word.

Eliot knew what the man was implying. Failure wasn't an option for these guys. Failure was punished, usually by death, and he didn't want to turn his fake death into a real one.

The man cell buzzed in his pocket, bringing the conversation to an end.

"Now, if you excuse me, I'm needed somewhere else. Just make sure you do as you're told. After all," a wolfish smile appeared on his face, "this agent Carter is _your_ problem." He said with a warning and headed for the door.

Eliot's eyes followed him to the door. He hated to admit it, but the other man was right. They've played the cat and mouse game for too long, and it was time for the cat to eat the mouse.

„Call Pablo. Make the arrangements." He ordered. "If the lovely Miss Carter wants to know what I've been doing this whole time, we might as well show her."

…


	10. Chapter 10

_"_ _It's time to wake up, Agent Carter…"_

The voice, although familiar, sounded so distant Sharon doubted hearing it in the first place. But there was nothing else. Aside from her rapid heartbeat, threatening to leave her breathless and the faint sound of dripping water somewhere behind her, there was nothing else. Dead silence,surrounding her, filling the place.

Her head felt heavy, and no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn't lift it without regretting the action immediately, and feeling dizzy, nauseated after it. So she stopped trying, giving herself little more time to recuperate. She focused on the sound of the water drips. It was slowly drilling a hole in her, but it was constant, therefor real. She cling to it, carefully following it back to reality.

 _Round number two._

She tried to chase the darkness away, but every time she blinked her eyes open her stomach heaved. She had to take few deep breaths before trying again. She gradually lifted her head, her eyes following, taking deeper and deeper breaths with every inch up.

 _"_ _Come on, you can do it."_

The voice encouraged her, but she didn't trust it. She let her head drop to her chest again, giving herself little more time to breath, to recover, to prepare.

" _Come on Sharon, don't disappoint me. I've thought you better than this._ "

"Go to hell," she managed, her voice sounding little hoarse.

"Now that's more like it." The man laughed, his voice finally sounding somewhat normal to her. "Can you look at me or are you still little off? I think Pablo may have out done himself this time."

Sharon carefully lifted her head, her eyes tracing his figure from the polished black dress shoes and the slick grey pants, to the crisp white shirt he currently wore unbuttoned. It must be the unbearable heat. Regardless of how she felt about him she had to admit something; he looked out of place.

Her reluctant gaze met his sending her heartbeat into frenzy. The surge of adrenaline was so strong it left her breathless. It threatened to crush her. But she had to fight it. So she fought. She fought for her every breath. She fought to steady her racing heart. She fought to put her thoughts in order. She had to control herself, a task that seemed impossible with him standing so close to her.

 _Deep breaths Sharon. Deep calming breaths, don't you dare give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this._

It became her mantra for the next couple of minutes. Focusing it was the only thing stopping her from jumping off that chair and snapping his neck. But it would have been an easy death. And Elliot Hobbs didn't deserve an easy death. He deserved to know her pain, her desperation. She wanted to make it last for as long as possible, to make it count for every day of misery he had put her through.

Still, no matter how strong-willed she was, her body betrayed her, and her fingers instinctively curled into fist behind her back. She was more than positive Elliot had noticed the slight movement of her arms, but she didn't care. If he was as smart he liked everyone to think he was he'd stay away from her. After all he was the one to teach her everything she knew today. He was well aware what she was capable of with a clear head and rational thoughts, let alone when she was driven by pure rage.

But rage was a bad advisor. It was dangerous emotion, one that made you predictable. It left you vulnerable and vulnerability was something Sharon never wanted to feel ever again. Elliot had made of her a victim, but she needed to stop think of herself like one. She was a survivor.

"Don't try and loose'em up," Elliot nodded at her hands, "or you'll hurt those pretty hands of yours."

"And why would I do such a thing, you'll be doing it yourself soon enough."

He dismissed her empty threat, even though the slight grim smile that played across her lips caught him off guard for a second. He knew what she was trying to do, but it was pointless. She was the one locked in here with him, not the other way around. Never the less, he wanted her here, to put an end of this little vendetta of hers.

So he kept a watchful eye on her for the past six months, he had to. Anatoly's death resolved some of the problems, but not all of them. Sharon turned out to be a major setback in his plan.

He kneeled in front of her and looked at her tortured features. The Sharon Carter he knew before was long gone, replaced by this ghost of a person. The wall of arrogance she had built around herself wasn't fooling anyone, especially him. She was broken, hanging by a threat, and he was here to cut that threat, destroying her once and for all.

"Did you ever think," he began calmly, "even for a second that this is how it would all end between us? After all these years of friendship and partnership…"

"Some friends if they treat you like this," she interrupted him, her voice still little shaky, but clearer this time. She lifted her head and looked at him dead in the eyes. "Friends don't order their friends dead and partners… they don't betray you, they have your back. So no, _Elliot_ ," she said his name with such resentment cold shiver climbed up and down his spine, "it never even crossed my mind. But you still did it, so what's the point crying over spilled milk."

He almost laughed at her feigned answer. "What, no hard feelings? I'm sorry Sharon but I don't buy it."

"And I couldn't care less about what you might or might not think."

"I actually believe that, but…" He stood up, knowing her eyes would follow him. "Look where you ended up. "

When she did look, it wasn't because he expected it from her, but because she needed to remember every little detail of her surroundings. The dim light coming from windows provided some clarity, but not enough. She needed to stall him, before making her move.

The room, gloomy and unwelcoming, looked more spacious because it was empty. She could feel the sault on the tip of her tongue, probably because they were close to the ocean. But it was also quiet, no scatter voices or traffic sounds, so they must be in some secluded place. Away from people, away from potential witnesses. But that was okay. For now.

She made another quick survey on the room before returning her attention to Elliot.

„Nice place," she mocked. "Cold, dark… ruined. It suits you perfectly. "

"Oh, Sharon…" he sighed, slightly shaking his head. "There is no one here, you can stop now."

"Stop what?" She asked her voice at the edge of reason.

" _Pretending_."

…

Elliot never believed in torture as a way of extracting information out of someone. It was so uncivil, so… _barbaric_. Blood and other bodily fluids staining his tailored suit, the unmistakable smell of fear in the air, the constant begging and sobbing, it's not how he'd imagined spending his days.

Torture was for people who didn't understand human nature, people who only depended on the physical response of the body toward pain and suffering. But what if the person before you overcomes the fear, the pain? What if they control their body to the point you can't hurt them? What if you can't break them? What if they were like her? Then all the things you think you know about human nature goes down the drain. Arrogance was the first step you take down the road of failure, and for Elliot failure was not an option.

Elliot was thought that no matter what you do to someone, no matter how painful and traumatic it is, the body will eventually heal itself, the wounds will disappear along with all physical sensations. But the memory of what you've been through will remain intact, hidden somewhere deep in your subconscious, waiting for the right time to reappear and destroy you. And destruction was all he wanted for Sharon Carter. His former student; his former colleague; his former friend.

She appeared strong and healthy; of course he expected no less of her. The training they both received was thorough and exhausting, preparing them for all sorts of situations. This is why he never even considered torture as a way of coercing anything out of her. She could survive weeks if not months before even breaking a little, and he wasn't settling for little. She was as prepare as he was to withstand anything. Drawing the line of the pros and cons he decided such approach was pointless and most importantly beneath both of them.

But look can also be deceiving. She was trying to look as though as he once remembered her, but he knew she was no longer that person. The woman in front of him was weak and insecure, a feigning shadow from his past. She wasn't strong or healthy, she was broken and scared. She was pathetic to look at, but he simply couldn't look away, because at some level he was responsible for it, and it made him feel…proud. Seeing the affect he could have even on people like her elevated his opinion of himself even more. Maybe her reaction toward him flattered his ego, but it was a good feeling and he wasn't planning on letting it go any time soon.

…

Sharon knew from expression he was studying her, probably enjoying what he was seeing. It was okay. For now at least. She had all the time in the world, while his was running out.

"So," she straightened in the chair, ever so carefully not to agitate her throbbing head, "are you gonna kill me Elliot?"

"Maybe later, but we need to talk first."

The honest answer didn't startle her.

"Are we gonna rehash the old times?"

He laughed. "I'm afraid it's a little more complicated than that." And then lost the smile. "I'm gonna need to tell me what you know about me and my new…associates."

The hesitation in his voice confirmed what Sharon suspected all along. Elliot wasn't working with HYDRA, but she needed more information on these people. They already cost her too much to simply let go. Elliot was going to pay for his crime, but he wasn't the only one deserving of a punishment.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you know better. These people Sharon… they lack my sophistication when it comes to interrogation and I don't want to see you get hurt," he paused for a second, "any more than you already are."

Sharon couldn't believe him. "That's rich coming from you, since you're the very reason I'm standing here today or need I remind you…"

"It's wasn't anything personal," he interrupted her, "it was just…business, Sharon. I thought you'd understand."

Sharon never expected anything more than the simple admission she got, but she couldn't miss the way his expression never changed. There was no sign of remorse or regret. In his disturbed mind he had done nothing wrong to her and the fact that he believed it made her feel like some caged animal, impatient and ready to fight. But Sharon had to be the smart one here. She had to relax and let the events play their course. It was essential to her plan. But she also needed answers, and the only way to get them was to play along his sick twisted game.

"You don't think that bastard shooting me and leaving me to die in the most agonizing way possible wasn't personal?" _He wanted a show; she'll give him a show_ … "It felt oddly personal to me and I have two bullet holes in my gut to prove it. And if you think…even for a second… I'll ever let go of what you did to me, then I think it's time for you to relocate my friend because the Colombian heat has melted your brain."

Her little tirade left her breathless and little dizzy, but it was worth it.

Elliot looked down at her and once more shook his head. "I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice." He walked passed her and headed for the door.

"You're nothing more than the coward I expected you to be," Sharon shouted at his back, forcing him to stop. "What, you can't finish what _you_ started? The great Elliot Hobbs, ladies and gentlemen. Not so great anymore."

He felt sorry for her. He did. That's why he was willing to give her another chance to earn her quick death. All she had to do was to tell him what, and if she knew anything and he was going to grant her with her salvation. But hearing the disdain in her voice? Frankly, it annoyed him. Obviously she needed to be reminded that she was the one who was alone and tied up to a chair in a stranger's house, not him. That she was the one who was going to die, not him. Her pretend ignorance was getting on his nerves and it was wasting his time.

Elliot turned on his heels and went back to her. Her burning gaze followed his as he kneeled before her, his suddenly acquiring this wary look.

"I know you don't think much of me, and it's okay, I guess, after everything you've been through…"

"After everything _you've_ put me through," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Elliot stared at her for e second before continuing. "You see, Sharon, that's your problem. You don't know when to let go."

"Let go or let _you_ go," she asked coolly.

Elliot's lips twitched. "Aren't they the same thing?"

"Not to me, they aren't."

"But it would have been so much easier," he sighed. "You could have walked away, never looking back. You could've had your old life back, finally enjoying yourself, your _heroic_ boyfriend…"

Sharon didn't miss the resentment in his voice when he somewhat mentioned Steve.

"And yet you still chose to continue with this… circus. Lying to your friends and family, abandoning your mission, betraying your country, so you could have what… your justice…" His lips twist in a mocking smile, " _Your revenge_."

He then slowly stood up and turned his attention to the item he had brought earlier.

Sharon followed his gaze, recognizing her SHIELD service pistol, now peacefully lying onto the metal table behind Elliot. It was funny; she had it exactly where she wanted it to be. It was a weapon, the one that could push everything to its place. After SHIELD collapsed she was happy to hand it over, leaving the pain and deaths behind along with it. But when she found about Elliot and his involvement in her near death she thought it was fitting to have her old gun back. After all it was present for her graduation, a token of her resilience and his admiration. And now it'd be the beginning of his end.

Elliot circled the table and picked it up, felling the cold metal against his skin. It felt weird to hold it again, but he shook the sentiment away. He then returned his attention to Sharon. She must really losing her mind, he thought.

He raised the gun to show it to her. "It this what your great plan was, to come here and kill me; with the gun I gave you as a present? Rather Shakespearean, wouldn't you say? To be honest, knowing you, I expected more than this."

"You don't know me, Elliot."

"I once did," he said simply. "You always had this… unbelievable will to experience, to learn… to live; such drive to be first in everything, without losing the sense of moral you were so proud of . You used to be strong, fearless… a true force of nature, and now… you're like the shell of the person I knew before, broken and scared. And don't tell me you're not scared. I could read it in your eyes without seeing it laid in black and white."

Sharon shifted in the chair, pulling her hands apart in an empty effort to break the shackles, only to have her wrists torn and bleeding.

Elliot smiled down at her. "You get where I'm going with this, don't you? Or should I remind you?" He stalked at her, the gun still wrapped in his grip. "What was it… _due to the extent of her physical injuries,_ _and despite the extensive nature of our therapy sessions, Agent Carter continuous to exhibit symptoms contributed to the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, followed by severe anxiety attacks and frequent insomnia._ I hope I'm not leaving anything important out," he mocked, narrowing his eyes at her. "Your shrink has done spectacular job, and it'd be a shame not to appreciate her efforts, right? Now, where was I…" he circled her, "oh, yes, my favorite part… _although the prescribed medications, Agent Carter refuses to submit herself… note: these are her words, not mine… to any form of treatment through artificial or chemical substances, ultimately delaying her recovery indefinitely…_ " He came to a stop in front of her.

"I gather you've read my file…"

"Read it? No, I memorized it. It was quite the reading too. Can't say I didn't find as the most interesting part of it all that you went to someone outside The Agency to seek help. Was it because is too embarrassing to let everyone you work with see you're no longer trustworthy, or maybe it was because you're too scare to even admit it to yourself. Having you here, seeing the wreck you've become, I realize now it's probably both … So tell me again," he grinned, "Why are you here?"

Sharon desired nothing more than to free herself, jump off the chair and erase the idiotic smile off his smug face. But again, she had to be smart about it, patient, even when it was almost impossible to keep her emotions at bay. Too much was at stake now. With Elliot providing the information, these people could have unlimited accesses to everything they need. She could fool herself all she wanted but Elliot was once one of SHIELD's top ranking officers. He had been in charge of so many missions his track record only challenging those of Hill and Fury himself, so he was not to be trifled with. Honestly, she could never dare, regardless of what he had done to her. She only hoped she had given Steve enough time to find her, before it was too late. Because after she was done with what she was planning the clock would turn against her, and the only thing she'd be racing with was Death herself.

She relaxed her posture and carefully examined Elliot's expecting face. His dark eyes, once friendly and welcoming, now were cold and greedy. He looked healthy, well rested, but somehow edgy and it was all because of her. Despite all his efforts he couldn't hide the fact that she had him in the corner. He might be the one asking the questions, but she was navigating the conversation. The gun in his hand, even empty, solidified his opinion of her. He didn't see her as a threat, so much as someone delusional hell bend on revenge. She was still going after it, but she needed to do her job first.

 _Why was she here? To keep him busy, of course!_


End file.
